I remember a blinding flash from below.  Moments later, a shock wave pummeled my fighter, blasting it through the air and out of control, as though it were a tumble-weed caught in a tornado's fury. I fought to regain control though completely disoriented, not even able to discern the difference between up and down. Then I realized the control panel was black, no electronics. You don't fly one of these babies without electronics. Why bother to try?

The cockpit canopy and ejection seat were mechanically operated, for just such emergencies.

First, I had to prepare myself. "Lord Jesus, thy will be done," I prayed. I calmed.

I pulled the safety pin and triggered the charge. The canopy blew away. A moment later, I felt the ejection seat mechanism hurl me from the aircraft. Whoomph! Ouch! That hurt. But at least I was free.

The air was very hot. An unbelievable amount of debris, smoke and dust filled the sky. I could not see much of the city below but there was fire as far as my eye could see.

"It must have been a huge nuclear blast. Jerusalem, with its millions of inhabitants, was no more? How could this possibly be?"

After a moment or so, I realized I was not descending, apparently caught in a mushrooming plume of hot air and gases. Damn good thing my flight suit was being fed oxygen from the oxygen bottles fitted within the ejection seat. There would be no telling how high I would ascend in this plume.

Unfortunately, debris began to precipitate out of it. I was amazed at the amount and size of junk whizzing past me. Some of these chucks were monstrous. Jesus had to be shielding me. "Thank you, Jesus," I prayed.

That prayer may have been a bit premature. No sooner had I thought it, my parachute was hit by a chunk of something huge, ripping it to shreds and almost hitting me as it zoomed by. Now, I plummeted from the sky too. My parachute, a streamer of rags, trailed me. Surely, Jesus did not bring me this far only to die. He would provide another miracle to save the day.

I prayed the standard Masonic prayer. "O Lord my god, was there no help for the widow's son?"

Apparently, there was not. The earth rushed to greet me. I looked at my watch. On January 16 2038, 2:48 p. m., I would meet Jesus. I was only twenty-three years old.

I was born in rural Georgia, My father, a Pentecostal preacher made sure I grew up to be a fine example of Christian values. As soon as I graduated from high school he sent me off to Bob Jones University. Dad wanted me to be a preacher too.

Yes, I loved Jesus. But I wanted to fly. And the United States had been at war against Islamic Fundamentalism since September 11 2001. I was desperately needed. The Lord was beckoning me. The Air force was the logical choice.

No doubt, I would see combat. Every Islamic nation on earth had ganged up on us. Some had nuclear weapons. Dad preached. "The day of Armageddon is at hand." Even though we were heavily outnumbered, there was little doubt about the outcome. Biblical prophecy guaranteed it. The Lord would prevail. I was proud to be a part of the Christian nation and the Christian army that would vanquish to hell the armies of Satan.

I flew combat missions over several theaters of operation throughout the Islamic world. With thirty-six dogfight kills to my credit in just two years, I had become an Ace fighter. Then I was assigned to patrol the skies over Jerusalem. The day I longed for had come at last. Jesus had ordained me to be his champion. Hallelujah!

But Jerusalem now lay in waste, complete desolation. And I was plummeting from the sky with no hope of survival. "What could possibly have happened to make things go so very wrong?"

I don't remember hitting the ground. The next thing I knew, I found myself walking around in a daze, somewhere among the ruins of the city. There was nothing to be seen other than total destruction. Yet, I seemed unharmed. Either that or I was dead and didn't know it.

Then I noticed the others, people everywhere, all walking around, dazed just like me. I watched them, one by one they just sort of vaporized into thin air. Then, my turn came.

I rematerialized, and found myself standing alone in the center of a vast empty chamber. Outside, I could hear muffled sounds, like thunder in the distance. Then I heard the voice.

"Well done thou good and faithful servant. Thou hast been faithful over a few things. I will make thee ruler over many."

"Jesus? Is that you, Lord?"

"You were expecting someone else," the voice asked?

"Oh no, Lord, not at all. It's just that this is all very strange, with what happened to Jerusalem and all. It wasn't what Dad said would happen. Am I immortal now? Do I have eternal life?"

"Yes, of course. I shall certainly see to that. Now what's this about Jerusalem?"

"Well, Jerusalem was destroyed. I didn't expect it to be destroyed."

The voice laughed. "You needn't concern yourself with Jerusalem. There are far more important things to be concerned with now. Your work is unfinished. I want you to always remember... He that is not with me is against me. Now, I have a job for you. Are you up to it?"

"Anything, Lord, you name it."

"Wonderful."

In an instant, I was transformed. I had a new body, dressed in fresh clothes. Upon my breast was embroidered a huge golden crucifix. I presumed it must be the standard uniform saints wear in heaven. But why was my hand now clutching a broad double-edged sword? I wondered about this only for an instant, my thoughts interrupted by the voice.

"Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord," the voice thundered.

With that, the huge chamber I thought to be standing in vanished into thin air. Now, I found myself standing among ruins of what looked like a huge city ravaged by war, a war apparently not over. Explosions rocked nearby buildings.

The voice of Jesus thundered from the sky. "And those mine enemies which would not that I should reign over them; bring them hither and slay them before me."

A group of people ran screaming past me. Some of them, wounded, fell down and were trampled. All were dressed just like me.

I had little time to make sense of this. The crowd was being pursued by another group dressed in uniforms with a huge golden crescent moon and star embroidered upon their breast. Muslims! And they carried swords, just like mine.

We were substantially outnumbered. Someone screamed, "Run!" Choosing wisdom over valor, I joined those in flight. Unfortunately, about that time, another group descended upon us from the opposite direction. They too, had uniforms and swords. Oh my god! The Star of David was upon their breast. Jews! And they looked angry.

"What's going on here," I thought? "Am I back on earth, back into the biblical Battle of Armageddon?"

Faced with inevitable slaughter, we turned to confront our pursuers. Every man, woman and child became a combatant. The choices were few. Slaughter or be slaughtered. I fought the best I knew how and managed to kill a couple of women and children before someone whacked off my head.

Unfortunately, we, Jesus' army of Christians, did not win. Neither did the Jews! Virtually every man, woman and child was slaughtered. When the last Jew fell, only a handful of Muslims were left standing. Their celebrations were short lived when another group happened upon the scene. Fearing they were outnumbered, the Muslims fled leaving behind an awful scene of blood and gore.

I lay upon the street dismembered and unable to move for several minutes. Miraculously, I was not dead. This time-out gave me a chance to pray and reflect upon my situation. Was this reality or was this some kind of perverse dream?

All the while, I heard the voice of Jesus continuing its drone from above. "Thou shalt have no other gods before me. He that sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly destroyed."

The wounded began to recover first. Vulnerable to attack, as soon as they had mobility, they fled the scene to hide in the ruins of the city. 

Eventually, my turn came. My dismembered body parts miraculously came back together and I recovered mobility. I didn't waste any time. I quickly found a hole among the ruins to hide in until my wounds completely healed.

As luck would have it, a couple more Christians crawled into the same hole with me. One identified himself as one Jerry Falwell and the other called himself Pat Robertson. I was glad to have their fellowship and they provided some badly needed answers. Of course, Jerry and Pat had all the answers.

Years later, after interrogating a captured Atheist, I began to have doubts about the answers Jerry and Pat had given me. The Atheist's arguments made a lot more sense. It didn't matter though. Everybody hates Atheists. I wasn't in any mood for mercy. We burned the atheist at the stake. Later, I felt bad about how I had reacted.

Well, I served in "the joy of my Lord" for about sixteen-million years. During that time, I chopped up just about every non-Christian human being that ever lived. In fact, I've done it several hundred times over. And I've been burnt at the stake, tortured, hung, drowned, dismembered, shot, blown up, etc so many times I've lost count. There is no end in sight. I wish there was. It seems we have no choice but fight on. Unless people here thumb their noses at their gods, this insane slaughter will continue, perhaps for eternity.

Eventually, I made a gut wrenching decision to do exactly that. I had come to the realization that loyalty to an intolerant god demanded intolerance. But, if I must be a part of eternity, I reasoned, I want to spend that eternity respecting the worth and dignity of every person. Reason and empathy had transformed my thinking. My blind loyalty to an intolerant god had to go.

In the twinkle of an eye, the mantle on my breast was changed into the mantle of an Atheist. The voice of intolerance beckoning to me from the sky fell silent. My god ceased to exist the moment I ceased to believe. My hate and intolerance no longer made any sense at all.

But alas, you see, these changes have not stopped me from being hated and hunted by billions of believers. Now with Atheist friends, I run, I hide and when captured, I try to reason with my captors. Most of the time, what I have to say is drowned out by a voice in the sky, a voice my captors hear but I cannot.

A few years ago, I met dear old Mom and Dad on the battlefield. Overcome with emotion, I just let them kill me. They didn't seem to mind. The incident reminded me of a scripture Dad often quoted. Now, for the first time, I understood exactly what it meant.

"I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And a man's foes shall be they of his own household."

Keyword: Jesus eternal life heaven death soul war Islam Christianity Judaism

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Comments (5)

Posted by Dirkin 2008-06-26 08:20:42 .... My favorite lines: "You were expecting someone else," the voice asked? because jesus is a sarcastic type. we, Jesus' army of Christians managed to kill a couple of women and children I felt as though this story could either be a really scathing parody of the history of religions, or that it is serious and in which case way off the mark. I was a little lost by the start... did he die? And was hios afterlife the soldier of God? Definitely a different tale, which kept my attention + Report this comment
Posted by indianaman130 2008-06-26 13:44:34 .... i think i got it, you tried to tie in the war today with future wars then tied war into the war humanity has had over our whole existence. We've been killing each other for 2000 years over the words war mongering, womanizing, iron age barbarians, wrote with the intent of cowing all other nations and beliefs. + Report this comment
Posted by Dr Lucifer 2008-06-26 16:27:01 The Point Is... The point of the story is just as is stated at the very end. If, in this life, religions nurture intolerance of all who are different, what makes you think people will be tolerant of each other in the so-called next life? (If there is a next.) And face reality. Since when did these religions teach or practice love thy "different" neighbor? + Report this comment
Posted by JJtyler 2008-06-29 22:15:14 .... I think for what you are writing, and what you are aiming to do, you do it well. I may not agree, but I think your point comes across nicely. + Report this comment
Posted by chaabuk 2008-08-12 21:05:41 .... You seem to be hell bent on proving a point about God, religion and atheism. I like this sort of debate or discussion. For it always leave a new thought to ponder upon. + Report this comment

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